"In Front of the Lens"
Self-portraits in Isolation

These images were born in silence.
During Melbourne’s long lockdown, confined to a small apartment, I found myself without a model, without distraction, without the familiar rhythm of work. For the first time in years, I was alone — with myself, my camera, and the stillness of isolation.

I have never felt comfortable in front of the lens. For much of my life, I’ve struggled with body image and the weight of negative self-perception. But during that quiet stretch of time — suspended between fear and peace — I began to explore a different version of visibility. Without anyone else to photograph, I turned the camera inward, not out of vanity, but out of necessity. And to my surprise, I found freedom there.

These self-portraits are not about performance or perfection. They are about presence. They reflect the layered emotional terrain of lockdown — boredom, sadness, solitude, softness, and a strange, almost romantic calm. They speak to the paradox of isolation: how absence can create space, how restriction can offer release.

In this series, I allowed myself to exist without judgment. I held space for the emotions I was too tired to articulate. I looked at myself not with criticism, but with curiosity. These photographs are evidence of that shift — a quiet confrontation, a document of survival, and a small act of self-compassion.